


Born of the Water Lily

by semievilnightowl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-20
Updated: 2013-04-20
Packaged: 2017-12-09 00:52:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/768081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/semievilnightowl/pseuds/semievilnightowl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Harry Potter had been sold to a strange wizard from Egypt when he was no older than five?  One must remember: Not all slaves are abused by monsters like the Dark Lord.</p>
<p>***</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Naming Ceremony

Vernon Dursley tugged on the rope he had around the wrists of his 'nephew', scowling at him for wincing at the treatment. The boy had been nothing but a thorn in his side since the day he was left on his doorstep. He'd fed him, clothed him, dealt with his crying for four long years, and he'd finally had enough. His wife was visiting her childhood friend and had taken their precious son Dudley with her, so he had decided to get rid of the brat and surprise her. He knew she'd be so pleased.

He'd brought him to the darkest, dingiest, most disgusting back alley in all of London, knowing someone would buy the boy and teach him his place in one of the numerous brothels littering the area. He stood there waiting; arms crossed and face set in determination. He'd give him away if he had to. By the end of the day, he'd no longer be forced to suffer with the burden that was Harry Potter.

***

A tall, darkly tanned man walked out of a shop in Knockturn Alley, nodding to himself as he looked through his purchases one last time to make sure it was all present. His godson loved experimenting with Potions; he knew he'd adore the new and exotic ingredients that he picked up while on his trip through England. He flicked a speck of dirt off his well-tailored suit, and headed back towards the brighter Diagon Alley. Turning right where he should have turned left, he ended up in a very small street with no lights. He noticed at once that magic was all but dead here. Some part of Muggle London then. Prepared to turn around and go back the way he had come, he stopped when he felt a strong magical presence brush past his own magical aura. Eyes wide and curious, he walked a little further down towards the bud of Light.

He stared at the very large, fat muggle who had the Light tied with a rough rope around his neck and wrists. He had to do something. He looked only a year or so younger than his own godchild. He couldn't leave him with this…monster. "Good day, sir," he said politely. "What brings you here of all places, with your…son?"

Vernon scowled down at the child, much to the other mans anger. "This is no son of mine; just the bastard son of my wife's dead sister."

"Oh, I see." Yes, he had no guilt about taking him away from this man. It was obviously for the best. He waited for him to continue.

"I was going to...foster him to one of the…lodgings around here," Vernon continued, a sadistic sneer on his ugly face. "You are…"

"Donkor. I'm here on official business as an Ambassador of Egypt," he smoothly lied. Well, it wasn't exactly a lie. He knew the muggle wouldn't understand, so why fry what little mind he had with technicalities. "And yourself sir. What might I call you?"

"Oh…Vernon Dursley," he said quickly, extending a meaty hand for him to shake. Donkor took it with a disarming smile, watching as the other man got more comfortable with him. He took a moment to glance the surrounding area and guess what type of "lodgings" were around. He was going to sell a child, a _magical child_ , to a common whorehouse? His rage began to boil even as he forced himself calm. Get the child and leave, he told himself sternly. Get the child away from him and go before you do something unseemly.

Like blow up the street.

"I know the household of my employer is in need of a slave. Egypt is a hard, hot place to live…why would we do what we can simply have others do for us?" he said with a laugh. Appealing to the man's cruel side seemed to be the best course of action.

"He'll grow up strong," Vernon said with a set look on his face. "He's already been taught to follow orders. He won't give you a bit of trouble," he said with a thunderous look to the boy.

"How much are you asking for him?" Donkor said after a time. He pretended to inspect the child as if he were a piece of cattle, checking his teeth and bone structure. He smiled kindly at the boy when Vernon wasn't looking, and was rewarded with a less frightened glance in his direction. He took it as a good sign. "He's rather scrawny, even for his tender age," he said. He hoped the boy wouldn't take his words too much to heart. The Egyptian didn't even bother to haggle; he just wanted to leave and get as far away as he could. Vernon's eyes bugged in glee.

With the rope in his hand and the boy by his side, he bid the other man a stiff farewell. "Thank you Mr. Dursely. I'm sure everything has worked out for the best."

"Yes, yes, of course. You do everything he tells you boy!" he shouted as they left the alley.

Donkor waited until he was long out of hearing distance before stopping and kneeling in front of the child. The poor thing was terrified. "Hello little one. What's your name?"

He was surprised at the answer he received. "Boy."

"No, child, I know you are a young male. What are you called?"

Small shoulders went up and down in a shrug. "That's what they call me."

I should have hexed him into oblivion, the man thought to himself. Damn his gentle heart. "You have no name then."

"No." The child sniffled, hastily wiping whatever moisture his large eyes made before they could fall.

Donkor's heart went out to the abused boy. But in his haste to get the boy away from his uncle, he'd gone and ruined his chance at being able to take the boy as his own. "Listen to me little one. Do you understand what has just happened?" A negative shake. He sighed. "In order get you away from…that man," he didn't trust himself to say anything else, "I had to buy you. That means that you are now under my control. Do you understand?"

This time he got a very frightened nod in reply. He placed a large hand on the boys head, keeping it there until he stopped shaking and looked up. "I'm sorry that this has happened to you. But by the laws of my own country, what I have done cannot be undone. Because you were born here in England, if I handed you over to the authorities, they would most likely give you back to your…to him." Donkor sighed to himself. All magical children were monitored from birth. If one was left orphaned, he should have been taken into another magical home. That was how it worked in his homeland. The fact that they hadn't taken him away from an abusive household…he couldn't understand. But he wouldn't let them take the child back.

"The only way for me to keep you from going back is by taking you with me." He'd have no choice but to bring this matter up with Pharaoh. But he was sure he would accept his judgment and take the boy in as his servant if it would mean keeping him from harm. "Do you understand?"

The child nodded. He gazed at him with hopeful green eyes. "I won't go back?"

Donkor patted his head affectionately. "No. Never again."

"Can I go with you?"

He smiled. "Of course."

"What's your name?" he asked tentatively.

"Donkor. It means 'humble' in my native language."

"Wow." He looked down, radiating shame.

"Little one? Look at me and tell me what is wrong." He shrunk all of his belongings and put them in his pocket so that both hands were free to hug the boy. After initial shock, terror and weariness, the child melted into his embrace. Had he never been shown such a small kindness before? No. Of course not.

"I don't have a name," he cried, small body wracked with sobs. "The dog next door has a name…why don't I?"

Donkor murmured soothing words into his ears to calm him. "Shh, small one, shhh. It's alright to cry. Would you like me to give you one?" he asked when the one in his arms had settled enough to understand his words. "Would that ease your sorrow?"

Eyes filled with need glistened up at him. "You can do that?"

"If you wish it."

"Yes! I want a name too!"

"Shh, settle down. I'll give you a name." He thought about what he knew about the boy. Not much, but… he had brushed his magic. It was radiant warmth like nothing he had come across before. Its core was so tightly wound within the boy that it reminded him of a closed Lotus bud, precious to all those of his country. He smiled at the boy; he needed to know if he was right. And there it was. The smile he received in returned paled to the way the child's magic suddenly blossomed in front of his eyes. Yes. "Child of the Lotus," he whispered in contentment.

"What?" the boy asked timidly.

"The blue water lily is a sacred flower to my people," he explained quietly. "It represents the blossoming of new life born from harsh beginnings." He stopped at the confused look the boy gave him. He would tell him more of his namesake when he was older and could understand. "I would name you Nefertem, after the Lord of the Lotus."

"Nef..Nefr…" he tried. His face fell when he couldn't pronounce it.

Donkor hastened to calm him. "It is a noble name; one that you will grow into. Why not try 'Tem' for short?"

"Tem…" the child whispered. "I can really keep it?"

Donkor laughed lightly. "If it pleases you."

"Tem," he repeated over and over. "My name is Tem! I have a name!" he cried in happiness, hugging him around the neck as tightly as his weak little arms could. The Egyptian laughed along with the elated boy, feeling a connection grow between them. Having been the one to name him, he would always be bound to him through magic. That suited him just fine.

"Come, Tem," he said, grabbing his hand and leading him away. "Let's get you cleaned up. Tomorrow we return home to the Middle Kingdom, where Pharaoh awaits."


	2. And Gentle Waves Will Take Me Home

Donkor stared at his young charge. "What did you just say?" he asked archly. Surely not. There was no way.

"How did the lady in the kitchen float up to get that jar of brown stuff?" Tem asked innocently, eyes wide and clear as he looked up at his rescuer. "She was flying!"

The Egyptian groaned to himself, covering his eyes as he tried clearing his thoughts. The boy knew nothing of magic. "You've never seen anyone levitate themselves before?" he asked vaguely. He needed to stall, give himself more time to figure out how he was going to handle this totally foreign situation.

Nefertem shook his head, his shaggy black hair falling into his eyes. "I've never seen anyone do that. If Aunt Petunia couldn't reach, she just left it alone."

"Ah. I see." That was right. He'd almost forgotten that he'd lived with muggles all his short life. Donkor's hope that if he remained silent long enough the boy would forget his question turned to sand before his gaze as bright emerald eyes stared up at him trustingly. He could never ignore eyes like that…his two godsons proved that to him long ago. "Sir?" The man winced. Nope, there was no way he could wait till they got home to let someone else handle this.

"Nefertem…what did I tell you about how you were to address me?" he asked gently. His lips twitched when he saw the small face scrunch up in serious thought.

"Call you by your name?"

"And what is my name?"

"Donkor!" the boy said proudly.

Donkor gave him an impressed grin, patting his head. It was amazing how a week at sea had the boy blossoming before his eyes. He'd decided that it would be best to let the boy get used to his new place in life gradually, and had chartered one of Pharaohs ships for the voyage home. He'd told the boy he could ask him anything, and explore anywhere on the ship, hoping that it would put him more at ease once the initial elation of having a name wore off. He'd been a little too right. "Come, Nefertem. Let's go for a walk and I'll explain."

Nodding, Tem grabbed his hand and let himself be led up on deck. They sat down on one of the wood-framed benches, the older man helping the younger as he climbed gracelessly up to sit next to him. Donkor had yet to figure out how he was going to get the child to stop clinging to him. By his words and his law, he was not allowed to be a father to the child, despite the bond connecting them. He would think more on it later. "Tem…do you know anything of…magic?"

The boy winced. "Magic doesn't exist," he said firmly.

"Who told you that?"

"My uncle and aunt."

Donkor frowned, turning his face away so the boy wouldn't think he was upset with him. Stupid muggles. "Your relatives were wrong, Tem. Magic does exist. That was how the cook was floating. She used a simple levitation spell so that she could reach the spices."

Eyes wide and disbelieving, Tem opened and closed his mouth numerous times in shock. "Really!" he finally squeaked out.

"Yes, small one."

"Can you do magic too?"

"Yes. So can you."

The child shook his head. "No I can't. I can't do anything."

Donkor placed a hand on his head and let it rest there. "In time, you'll be more powerful than I, Nefertem. I'm sure of it." He blinked when it looked like the child was going to cry. What had he said? He hadn't even looked at him funny, and he was ready to break down into tears. What was going on? This was why he had no children of his own. "Tem? What's wrong?"

The boy shook his head. "Nothing."

"Have…have I said something to upset you?"

"No."

Donkor was utterly lost. "I'm sorry?" he tried as a last resort.

Tem giggled a little. "I'm glad you like me so much," he told him with a small grin. "No one's ever liked me before."

The admission twisted the man's heart painfully. Such a sad child this was, with so much hope for the future nestled within his pure heart. "I like you very much, Nefertem. I'm sorry for upsetting you."

"It's ok. I'm not really sad." He paused, thinking. He couldn't figure out how to say what he was feeling, so he just smiled up at his favorite person.

Donkor sighed in relief. Crisis averted. He'd have to ask someone what he'd done later, to make sure he didn't do it again. He didn't know what he would do if the boy had broken down into full-blown sobs. "How are you feeling?" he asked after a time; just making sure they were both really alright.

"Hungry."

At least in this, all children seemed to be the same. He could do this. "Let's go back down to the kitchens then, and I'm sure the cook will be more than willing to find you something to nibble on."

"Will she do magic again?" Tem asked hopefully, green eyes wide in undisguised excitement.

The man stood and helped the boy down. "I'm sure we can figure something out," he said lightly. He'd make sure of it. Even if he had to bribe her with a free dishwasher for the next few days, he'd make sure the boy saw some more magic.

"Donkor!"

The two stopped in their tracks, looking at the young guard trotting towards them. Tem backed away and hid behind Donkor's legs while his temporary guardian raised a hand in acknowledgement. "Yes, what is it?" he asked his friend and comrade in arms.

"Sir, the captain requests your immediate presence in his quarters," the younger man gasped out. He'd obviously run most of the way.

Donkor patted the man on the shoulder. "Thank you. I'll go straightaway." He looked down into Tem's curious eyes. "Nefertem, I'll be but a moment. You can go ahead down to the kitchens if you want…" he trailed off at the frightened look he was given in return. "Or you can wait right here. I'll be but a moment, I'm sure." He patted the fluffy black hair, soothing the terror away. "Lateef, do you have the time to stay with him while I see to this?"

The guard puffed out his chest and straightened his back in pride. "Of course, Sir. It will be my honor."

Donkor nodded to him and with one final pat upon Tem's head, left to find the captain. 

As it was, the Captain had apparently lost patience with him and had come searching for him himself. "Lord Donkor."

"Captain. You needed something of me?"

The large, darkly tanned man shook his head, drawing them both to the opposite side of the ship. "Take a look at that, Lord." He pointed directly ahead of them, right along their course.

Squinting his eyes against the last rays of the setting sun, Donkor looked out at the sea. An island that he was sure hadn't been there yesterday was looming just out of easy sight, green and lush to his shocked eyes. "What on earth his that?" he asked.

The captain shook his head. "I do not know. It was not there this morning…it was not there half an hour ago! I've looked through all my charts, all my maps, and that island does not exist."

"Then what is it doing there?" Donkor asked. Why did the speck of land look like it was…glowing?

"I have a guess," the older man said in a tired voice. It was clear that he didn't want to say anything more on the subject.

"Yes?" Donkor prompted.

With a grunt and a sigh, the captain gave in. "I think it might be The Blessed Isle."

Donkor let out a snort through his nose. "Punt Island?" he asked. "Surely not, Captain. One muggle's account of being shipwrecked and abandoned on some unknown island doesn't instantly mean that it exists. That story was told thousands of years ago."

"I know, I know. I've tried thinking of something else, but nothing else fits. Some have tried studying the mysterious place, and say that it appears once every year. The position varies, but it's all I can find on the subject."

Donkor looked at the island again. "The Isle of the Serpents…Wouldn't it be amazing if it were true?" he breathed.

The captain's response was swallowed by the sudden boom of thunder, the ship rocking dangerously as waves assaulted its sides. They grabbed the railing and held on as water rushed up and over the deck. They both turned at the high pitched scream from behind them. Donkor's heart stopped. "TEM!" he shouted over the sudden storm, making his way on unsteady feet to where he had left the boy only minutes ago. He grabbed the nearest guard's shoulders and turned him around to face him. "Where is Nefertem?"

The group looked down at the black water.

"Why hasn't anyone gone in after him?" he shouted, enraged. He quickly started stripping off his clothing, making sure to take off anything that would weigh him down. He had to find him; he had to get him back. He couldn't loose the boy; he had not saved him to send him to an early grave!

Several of his guards grabbed his arms and shoulders, holding him back. "Lateef jumped in after him when he didn't surface. Neither of them has surfaced. You can't go, the undertow with kill you too."

"NEFERTEM!" Donkor shouted, struggling in vain as those around him refused to let him go. " _NEFERTEM_!"

"Captain, look!" one of the sailors shouted, pointing. All on deck turned to stare at what had been an island seconds before. They watched as it melted away into large waves, the towering water caving in on itself as it vanished. And then the sea was calm once more.

They waited for the sea to give back the two she had taken.

She refused.


End file.
